


Answering Machines

by bunnymatsu



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Multi, No Smut, Phone Calls & Telephones, Scary, vent fic i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 21:03:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14656194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnymatsu/pseuds/bunnymatsu
Summary: Jeremy can recite Michael's answering machine by heart. After all, it hadn't changed since ninth grade.





	Answering Machines

**Author's Note:**

> TW FOR SUICIDE

Jeremy could quote Michael's answering machine message word for word if you asked him to. He'd called so many times, knowing that unless he was just very high or asleep, he'd get an answer. However, his friend had been sleeping more and more. 

“Hey! How's it goin’?” Michael's voice, cracking through the phone, asked. 

“Hey, Micah! It's Jeremy.” A laugh from the other end, and then,

“Sorry, I can't come to the phone right now, I'm totally doing something really important.” Then a beep. Jeremy had felt embarrassed the first few times he'd fallen for the age old trick of responding to the voice on the answering machine. It had been the same message for years, since ninth grade, as Jeremy remembered it. 

Today was heinous day, if Jeremy had ever had one. Michael had been absent from school, Christine had broken up with him, and it felt like he'd gone back to how things were before he'd gotten tangled up in the events of the SQUIP. He preferred not to think about that much, because he still felt an awful guilty feeling. That feeling only got worse today, festering deep in the teenager's stomach and making him feel like he was at risk of vomiting every time he was jolted around even slightly. Something wasn't right. 

A voice in his head repeated it. Something wasn't right, something ISN'T right, and many other variants with the same meaning. Jeremy could feel it. So, he decided to push the pain from losing his girlfriend of two months away, and call his best friend, Michael. He needed to talk with him. 

Four rings went by, and nothing, so Jeremy hung up, not wanting to hear the subtle taunt of the answering machine. He felt like he could beat it if he didn't have to listen to it. The 'how’s it goin’?’ in Michael's cheery voice seemed like torment to him now, he wanted to talk face to face, because things had started to feel unreal. The rooms he passed through in his house were so blurry, and wait, when had he even arrived home? He couldn't remember walking or being on the bus. Was it a weekend? Jeremy couldn't say. He remembered being at school, seeing people, Christine breaking up with him… or was he making them all up? They moved and talked around him, but he felt like he was moving and listening to everything underwater, feeling like his lungs were going to collapse.

He needed to feel grounded. He needed his escape. Maybe he could just show up at Michael's house? That was out, he couldn't even process where he was, much less the time of day or even the directions to come visit his friend. So, he settled for the phone, feeling dread fill his stomach as he looked at it again. The demon phone, who wouldn't connect with his friend. Surely it was the phone itself to blame. And why hadn't Michael showed up at school? Jeremy reached forward with a gulp, holding the rectangle of dreaded technology in his hand as he opened it to the phone app. How weird, they called the thing a phone, yet the phone was more a feature at that point than a main function. Technology was all it was really. Tapping his fingertips along the glass screen, he selected Michael's contact, holding the device to his ear once more.

Five rings, and he touched the red button to hang up. Maybe it was for the best, he thought. He questioned whether he'd even be able to get words out of his mouth if Michael had picked up. 

Something is wrong, he thought again, the voice droning on and making Jeremy's shaking hands move to grip at his hair. What was this feeling, and why wouldn't it go away? It hurt, but it felt numb at the same time, like he wasn't himself. Maybe nothing existed right then, maybe he was paused in time with the floating textures, colors and sounds that moved around his world. Everything was here and he was alert, but nothing he wanted was there either.

Where is Michael? Where is he? It was only then that the teenager realized he was speaking aloud. 

“Michael?!” He called once again, his voice shaky. No answer of course, his friend was probably sleeping. As Jeremy took the phone in his hand again, he knew what he had to do. He had to listen to the taunting message of the answering machine, the cheery little 'how's it goin’?’ that Michael feigned through the voicemail feature. Fuck, he hoped it would set things right with him again, because he could barely register where he was. 

Jeremy fought hard not to press the red button to end the call before the message began, and it started. The message that Jeremy could repeat so easily. So, the boy spoke along with the machine.

“How's it goin’?” Jeremy started before realizing something had changed. The beep came earlier, and he needed to know what the message said. Was this why everything seemed to be breaking around him? 

He let the phone ring again. The message came on, the altered version still sounding like Michael's voice, but this time with a happiness he had never heard from that voice.

“How's it hanging?” The message asked, now more taunting than ever. Why now? Why now had Michael made such a subtle change? Then, it hit Jeremy, hard. Was that why his friend hadn't been at school today? Was he making a sick joke, or had he…? Jeremy knew the answer too well. 

Hanging. How's it hanging? Of course Michael, that infuriating friend of his, would do this with a bad pun being the only thing to clue Jeremy in. How fucking selfish was he? What, was he trying to get Jeremy to laugh? Because it worked. 

Jeremy laughed harder than he'd ever laughed, tears streaming down his face as his bedroom began to come into focus again. He couldn't contain his emotions, he just couldn't do any of it. Was Michael really gone? He could picture it, he didn't want to picture it. He didn't want to look anymore at the awful images in his mind mixed with the taunting of that demonic answering machine. Was he broken?

No, was the first answer that Jeremy thought of when he opened his eyes, seeing nothing out of place in his room. His phone was a phone, his friend was alive. At least, he needed to check. The voice in his head had finally left him alone at long last. 

Letting the phone ring, lighting up with Michael's name again, had been painful. 

“Jeremy? How's it hanging, dude?” Michael's real voice picked up, with some unpleasant word choices. 

Nothing came out of Jeremy's mouth, he felt like he'd choke if he tried to speak. 

“Dude, you okay?” 

Then, Jeremy hung up. He wasn't sure what to think anymore.


End file.
